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Gordon needed reassurance now, not a recitation of the various ways their mission could be doomed. "Look here!" Ross came to the table, his hand sweeping past Karara, as he used his forefinger for a pointer. "We know that what we want could be easily overlooked, even with the dolphins helping us to check. This whole area's too big.
The invasion from the North of people flowing south by way of the Balkan Peninsula began that unhappy area's record of race-struggles and constant warfare. The Greek civilisation had scarcely established itself before it was attacked by an Asiatic Power Persia.
Three people, two men and a dirty, disheveled and bloody-nosed older woman, sat in the front seat munching Good Humor bars. "Didn't you hear me?" the AEC man yelled. "Get outta here. This area's hot. Radioactive. Dangerous. The woman leaned out the window and patted the radiation expert soothingly on the shoulder. "Shucks, sonny, no need to get this excited over a little spilt milk."
Having reached this decision, and following his habitual custom, he permitted no grass to grow beneath his feet. Writing out an ad, he reviewed it carefully, compared it with others that he saw upon the printed page, made a few changes, rewrote it, and then descended to the lobby, where he called a cab and was driven to the office of one of the area's metropolitan morning newspapers.
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